


Finish Me

by DeepDisiresLonging



Category: All Elite Wrestling
Genre: Dry Humping, Edging, F/M, Smut, hallway/voyerism risk, implied further smut, wrestling violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-24
Updated: 2020-10-24
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:34:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 879
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27183199
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeepDisiresLonging/pseuds/DeepDisiresLonging
Summary: A gruelling match leads to rough smut.
Relationships: Maxwell Jacob Friedman/Reader
Kudos: 10





	Finish Me

If you never saw Max’s smirk again it would be too soon. 

Everything hurt. Your shoulders where he’d dodged and you hit the ring posts. You ribs where he punched and kicked them. And hit with the kendo stick there at the end. It was a surprise your mouth wasn’t bleeding. He’d hit you pretty hard before you caught him in your finishing submission hold. MJF chose to pass out instead of tapping. 

That was fine with you. At least the match was over. Now he could stay out of your face-

Speak of the devil.

“Pitiful” came to mind. 

His scarf haphazardly laid on the edge of the same crate he was sitting on. Bright red welts raised from his stomach. You’d gotten plenty of kendo stick hits on him once you wrangled it out of his grasp. A duller red shone around his neck where you gripped him. Max gently arched his back. A tiny gasp escaped before he saw you. 

“You here to finish me off, sweetheart?”

You cocked your head to one side. “Nah. I think you’re pretty much finished. At least for tonight.”

“Heh. Shows what you know.” 

Crossing your arms, you scoffed. “Really? Did I squeeze out too many of your brain cells, Max? I kicked your ass three ways past Sunday.” You grimaced as he turned, showing off the giant growing bruise where you slammed him against the apron. “Can- can you breathe okay?”

“What do you care?” He grumbled something under his breath about a ruined record. He caught you rolling your eyes. 

“It was an intergender experiment. Happy Halloween. The Elite probably won’t count it towards our records. Now… if I can keep this up for a few weeks they might start. I’m planning on beating Lance Archer next week.” You shrugged. “Got any tips?”

He thought for a second. “Don’t repeat this week.”

“You mean lose-”

“No, I-” he groaned. “Don’t let the match turn into a no disqualification match. If he sends you through a table, it’ll break you in half. Keep it by the books. You’re- you’re usually good at that.”

Oh. 

“Uh. Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it.” Hissing, he stood. “And don’t get in my way again.”

“In your way? You were the one-”

“Oh, don’t start, sweetheart-”

“Don’t call me that-”

“Stop me, then.” He smirked. “Sweetheart.”

A second later your hand was around his throat and his back against the wall. In another second, your positions were switched. And your faces were… really close. 

His eyes flicked to your lips. “We- we can’t do this. Right?”

Slowly you shifted your hand around to the back of his neck, playing with the curls you found there. “Why not? We’re hyped up on adrenaline. Nothing wrong with a good hate-fuck. And if we try to tell… it’s not like anyone would believe us.”

His bobbing Adam’s apple intrigued you. “Built-in security.” The warmth around your neck receaded as he moved his hand down to the dip in your ring-gear. “Are we doing this?”

“Do you want to do this?”

The answer you received was the hard front of his pants being thrust onto your thigh. Already panting, your mouth dropped open and your head lolled to one side. Max seized the opportunity to latch his lips around your pulsepoint. You gasped lightly. Your nails dug into the top of his back, pulling him closer. 

He chuckled agaisnt your skin. With his thigh between yours, he flexed and pushed it in a rhythm. Soon, you started your own. Max moved his lips to the other side of your jaw, sucking just shy of making a hickey. 

“We- we probably-” You licked your lips. “Room?”

“Why?” Max kissed you deeply, sucking on your bottom lip until it popped out of his mouth. “I like having you against the wall.” He leaned close to your ear. “You may have beat me in the ring, but I bet if somebody walked by you’d cum on the spot.” When your hips bucked harder against his thigh, he laughed. “Kinky.”

Your body shuddered as he nipped his way across your collar bone. Desperation increased the speed of your thrusts. You hated how close you were already. But not enough to stop. Max was moving too. Thrusting his bulge up and down your thigh. The tops of his cheeks could have been rosy. Your vision was too blurry to tell. 

Eyes drifting closed, you were just starting to make small whins of pleasure when Max suddenly stepped away. 

“Wha-” You bristled and whined, “come on, Max! Make me cum.” His scarf fluttered around his neck so you could pull him close. You mouthed at the underside of his jaw. “Finish me.” 

His eyes glazed over with your words. He shook himself back to normal before dragging you down the hall by your wrsit. “Changed my mind. I’m not going to share you. Not what you look like when you cum, anyway. Now your screams-” He pinned you to the outside of his dressing room door. “Those I’ll share by making you scream until you’ve forgotten anything but my name.” The door swung open behind you, then clicked shut and locked behind him. “Let’s have round two and see who taps out this time.”


End file.
